Fade to Explosion
by prouvaires
Summary: -and it's weird because you never even cried.- ArthurMorgana, with some MerlinMorgana


**Disclaimer: **Don't own. Don't sue.

**Rating: **T (for strong language.)

**Song: **Angel (Sarah McLachlan) and Iris (Goo Goo Dolls).

**Pairing: **ArthurMorgana and some MerlinMorgana.

**A/N: **Was listening to these two songs, feeling depressed and decided to angst-ify the crap out of Morgana. You have been warned! Plus, I went really crazy and put _both _of my favourite Morgana pairings in here. Wow.

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You're not sure what it is that gives you those moments of total and _complete _hysteria. You wait and you wait and you wait and all the time you wait you _hope _and it's all for nothing. (Nothing at all.)

Because, beautiful, girls like you just don't get a second chance. There's no lucky breaks or distractions or release. There's just you and your magic and that's all you've got left to live on. Let it define you, baby. (What else have you got, after all?) You're living in the wreckage of your past coupled with the fires of your present and the terror of your future and maybe you should have just stayed after all.

Truth is, baby girl, you used to laugh at him and insult him and never _once _did you hint that you liked him and so, really, shouldn't it be your fault he fell for Gwen? Everyone _knows _that nothing is ever your fault (you're predictable like that) but seriously, princess, even if he did feel something for you once (and we know he did) you were so icy (like the fucking winter, you fool) that he gave up and went away and dropped his heart in some other woman's lap.

And you moan and cry and complain that no-one _understands _and that it's time you were the one getting the lucky breaks and you just don't realise that there are a hundred girls out there who made the same mistakes as you (but they don't have magic to give them something in the aftermath). They cry and they mourn but they can't light a fire with their _eyes _to keep them warm as the tears cascade and they can't make flowers bloom in the middle of their own personal winters to cheer themselves up.

And for god's sake, princess, isn't it about time you grew up? You may be world-weary but you're fucking _naïve _and really when you think about it that's an oxymoron (but it's all just _words_, darling) and probably you should define yourself differently. Maybe you're heart-broken or betrayed or free or another word that's just another way of looking at the same thing and truthfully the only thing you are is _scared_. (You're not nearly as good as you think you are at hiding it.)

You lie to yourself and to everyone else and you convince everyone (even yourself) that you're out for revenge and filled up with darkness, and it's weird because you never even _cried. _Usually there's a stage of denial and tears before the anger but you just snapped straight from goodtobad and lighttodark and when you think about it (not really) he's always been worth the tears (even if he did choose the wrong woman).

"Don't fight me," you warn Merlin as he faces you across the trampled field of grass. He's standing there with his hand raised in preparation and the tears in your eyes are rising (turns out everything, even your body, is betraying you) and you can feel the pressure building inside of you and you think you might even explode.

But then he just says: "okay", and suddenly he's next to you and his mouth is fastening onto yours and you amaze yourself because you kiss him back and you don't even pretend that he's Arthur, just lose yourself and your common sense and he makes you _forget _and it's so perfect you don't even cry.

There's a word for that (you think it's _irony_) because you could probably have been happy with Merlin. (He's definitely safer to love than Arthur.) But you didn't realise until too late and then Arthur's married Guinevere (and she's probably sleeping in _your _rooms, sitting at _your _mirror and brushing her scruffy hair with _your _hairbrush) and Merlin's too grand for the likes of you.

(You've fallen further from grace than you could ever have imagined, angel.)

The land echoes to the sound of his name and so you start creating havoc just because you _can _and because it's fucking unfair that they can sit in their castle and pretend that the girl they knew as Morgana died and the embittered woman you've become is an otherworldly demon who's assumed your form and is channelling its hatred through you.

That's another thing. You know that you're a hundred different types of beautiful and that you're strong and terrifying and that you don't belong without them but you don't know whether you really _hate _them. Arthur and Merlin and Camelot make you feel sick, but it's more with longing and regret than hatred. You hear _Guinevere _and you are consumed with fury because she took _both _of them, Arthur and Merlin. The two who were always yours, friends and lovers, and now she's the first lady of Camelot and, gods, that was always _your _place and you'll be damned if she's allowed to rest contentedly there.

So you fight and burn and you tear down all the walls of memories they've put up between the actuality that is you _now _and the dream that you were _then _and you're going to force them to realise that maybe this has been you all along. (And maybe, in the meantime, you'll realise that yourself.)

Because, princess, destiny only ever made space for one queen in Arthur's life, and there was never any space in Merlin's life for a woman at all, besides an adversary. And, sure, any space in their lives is better than none but you'll be damned if you fade away and let the history books remember you only as the king's foster-sister or the magician's one-time lover.

You'll be Morgana le Fay, and no matter what they say you'll never just burn out like a forgotten candle. You'll live with your regrets and wishes and maybe you'll grow up. You'll be naïve forever (it's like your trade-mark) but when everyone else sighs for lost innocence you'll be staring out at the world through bewildered green eyes and wondering what the _fuck _happened. You never meant for this to happen, but it's most likely that the choice was never even up to you.

(It's always the prettiest girls that go out with the biggest bangs.)

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**A/N: **Bloody hell, I depress _myself _sometimes. Please don't favourite without leaving a review, thanks!


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